Quirky
by Ravishingly Discreet
Summary: Admidst the chaos of a missing ministry offical, a new relevation comes to be and is fought against.
1. She's a Girl!

**Quirky**   


**Disclaimer- **The Weasley family, and their clock, were derived from the mind of JK Rowling, not my own. As no money is being made, there are no legal grounds to take such action as to sue me for.. whatever I'm doing. 

**A/N-** I'm quite the fan of the Ron/Hermione ship; but I've seen it done poorly so many times. So, I've decided to write my own interpretation of this rocky relationship. Enjoy, and notice the hopefully complete lack of fluff.   


**She's a _Girl_!**   


"You invited _who_?" 

The infuriating red head smiled at her closest brother, elder to her by only a year. Her infamous Weasley red hair lay smoothly against her pale, freckled skin as she smiled smugly, obviously haven come up with a rare, and long overdue, comeback. "I always thought it was Charlie with the hearing problem." 

To prove her point, the red haired twenty something male at the other end of the table cocked his head towards them and asked suspiciously, "_What_?" 

While Ginny dissolved into an unfit spout of giggles, the tip's of Ron's ears continued to redden. 

"Honestly dear, she _is _still your friend, isn't she?" 

Casting an undignified look at Ginny, matching it with an equally bothersome muttered word, he looked, with an exasperated expression, at his mother. "Of course she is, Mum. But.. well, she's a _girl_." 

Fred and George, the identical twins and pranksters of the indefinitely red haired family, chuckled. 

"Really, Ron? We never noticed," commented George rather flatly. 

Ron just shook his head dismayingly at them. 

"Besides, if she's _my_ friend. Why's _Ginny_ inviting her?" 

"She can have more than one friend, you know!" Replied Ginny, defensively. 

Ron shrugged his shoulders. 

Bill, his older brother, who was once again sporting disapproved (by their mum, at least) long locks and his much reproached fang earring, smiled at his youngest brother. "I have a feeling there's more to you not wanting her over than her being a girl." He laughed. "Although I'm sure that certainly has _much_ to do with it." 

Ron's cheeks instantly grew scarlet, his many freckles standing out unflatteringly upon them. It was a blessed thing that their mother was present, because Ron's temper was ready to release quite the storm of words upon his eldest brother. 

With a tut, and a movement of her chair, the conversation was ended by Mrs. Weasley. Each Weasley sibling knew better than to continue for fear of receiving the notorious Molly Weasley glare. 

The clock on the wall, cluttered with shelves of odd and flashing (most commonly 12:00) Muggle appliances, chimed sharply and each red haired head turned to it. 

This clock, as fascinating as it may be to a Muggle or other unsuspecting creature, proved absolutely no use in time telling. Instead, it was framed with such words as 'Home,' 'Work,' and 'Mortal Peril' and sported nine hands each decorated with the name of a Weasley. The two labelled 'Arthur' and 'Percy' had just landed on 'Home' with the rest of them. 

As if on cue, Arthur and Percy Weasley, themselves, arrived with a sudden pop in the kitchen. 

"We haven't missed supper, then?" Asked a hopeful, although tired, looking Mr. Weasley as he eyed the windows portraying the dark night outdoors. 

His son, Percy, fell into the nearest chair as if standing a second longer would be more than he could bear. 

Truthfully, Molly Weasley had been about to take away the newly cleaned plates, but upon her two missing family member's arrival she thought better of it. 

"No, we were just about to start." 

The groan from the other six family members was cut short by the glare they'd fought hard to keep from receiving earlier. Mr. Weasley, nor Percy, noticed, however, obviously famished. 

So, while the newly arrived Weasley's started out on their first course, the others started on their second; some on their third; and some, rather dutifully, on their fifth. 

**_~_**

".. And so Glumdeglok won over the high travesty of tro-" 

The passage, being read aloud from Hermione's already thoroughly read _History of Magic_, was interrupted by a small tapping at her window. 

Her face, framed with locks of bushy brown hair, lifted from within the pages of the heavy volume rather reluctantly. 

Glumdeglok was soon forgotten, however, as she caught sight of the small owl fluttering its wings outside her bedroom window. It tapped its beak once more on the glass, rather annoyingly, before Hermione could rush over to the window sill and let it in. 

She'd been waiting for Ron's response to her last letter for the longest time. He always did take such time in replying. 

Hermione allowed the dubbed Pigwidgeon, to nuzzle against her arm as she untied the parchment bound to its leg. Upon getting it loose, the dwarfed owl took to flying around her room, hooting ceasingly. 

Hermione quickly shut her window so that the neighbours wouldn't hear, and looked disapprovingly at the owl. "Shush. Now, be a good owl and quiet down. I'll fetch you some owl treats once I'm finished with this letter." 

At this, Pigwidgeon took to perching on top the text she'd been reading. Hermione smiled, and unfolded the parchment. 

Rather disappointed, she found it to be in Ginny's handwriting instead of Ron's.   


**_Hermione,_**

**_Ron's having Harry over this weekend. Mum's been writing to Dumbledore all summer and he finally said Harry could come!_**   


Hermione grinned. It was all too obvious that Ginny still held that awful schoolgirl crush for her friend.   


**_So, Mum said I could have you over too! You will come, won't you? Please send Pig back with a note saying you will!_**

**_-Ginny_**   


She laughed, the unexpected noise causing Pigwidgeon to fly into the air once again. She sat the sparse parchment on top her desk, and grabbing a near ball-point pen, she wrote quickly..   


**_Ginny,_**

**_I'll be happy to come. I'll have my parents take me to The Leaky Cauldron tomorrow. Expect me around noon by Floo Powder._**

**_Your friend,_**

**_ Hermione_**   


Plunging her hand deep into one of the desk's drawers, she pulled out a bag of owl treats. Selecting three rather small ones, she gave them to Pigwidgeon as she tied the letter to its leg. 

Having only to dislodge a piece of the treats from the owl's throat once, Hermione soon set it on its way. Then, picking up _History of Magic_, she continued to read of the Troll rebellions of 1896 as she left her room in pursuit of her parents.   


**A/N- **If you've read this far, you deserve a congragulations; just as I deserve a review. So, please, compliment me, flame me, speak gibberish to me.. just review! 


	2. Half Giants and Biscuit Pans!

**Quirky**   


**Disclaimer- **I don't know about the flying pan, but JK Rowling owns most everything you'll read below. 

**A/N-** Wow. My reviewers rock!!! 

Thanks Arynn, Jessie, Leesa, Paige (Don't worry, I won't. You ahve permission to attack me with a light saber if I do!), Emma, Smiley.. and Tikal. (?) I'm having trouble deciphering that. Yes, you are fluent in gibberish. ^_~   


**Half Giants and Biscuit Pans**   


Hermione, her parents staying nervously close to her, pushed and shoved her way through the odd crowd within The Leaky Cauldron. Suspicious looking hags, old gossips, and even vampires sat amongst the usual guests today. Hermione hadn't time to begin to wonder what had drawn them all out when she came face to face with the toothless owner. 

"Tom," she said breathlessly, tired from the near game of dodge ball she'd had to go through to come this far. 

Tom grinned at her, his wrinkled face screwing up most unattractively. "Well, if it isn't Ms. Granger." He looked behind her in amusement. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were the only Muggles there. "And these are your parents, I suppose?" 

Flinging out his arm, and hitting a nearby wizard with it, he bowed down low. Once standing at his normal height again, he asked eagerly, "Will you be staying the night?" 

"Oh no," said Hermione quickly. "I was hoping I could use the Floo Network from here." 

Tom nodded, hiding his disappointment of the loss of a customer by turning away. "This way then." 

He stopped behind a nearby bar, at which a man rivalling even Hagrid's size, a half giant ground's keeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor at Hogwarts, banged on the counter for a drink. Ignoring him, Tom popped back up with a Muggle vase, bewitched so that the crude drawings upon it moved about. He smiled nervously. "It's wizard owned.. Mr. Weasley said himself.. not breaking any laws by bewitching it.." 

Hermione laughed. Wizards were not supposed to use magic on such Muggle artifacts, but with Mr. Weasley in charge of the department dealing with such things, there was a loophole in every law. Mostly, so Mr. Weasley could continue experimenting with their many trinkets himself. 

Tom waved his hand for them to follow him. Mr. and Mrs. Granger cast a horrified glance at the suspected half giant and hurried behind their daughter. 

"Quite a crowd today, isn't there?" Remarked Tom proudly. 

Hermione nodded, pushing past a surpassingly wide witch dressed in horribly stretched pink robes. 

"It's no wonder, I suppose though. I'd say there's a greater crowd today than there was even when little Harry Potter- bless his soul- sent away You-Know-Who." 

Hermione would have added that You-Know-Who had actually risen again just last year when she was overcome with a great curiosity. "Well, then, _what's_ going on _today_?" 

Tom turned and stared at her as if she was sprouting fuzzy pink rabbit ears. Although, in the wizarding world that was an almost everyday occurrence, especially with Ron's older brothers, Fred and George, around. "You don't know?" 

"Well, no.." 

Hermione had always prided herself with keeping up with the Wizarding world while away for summer break; and she'd thought she had done fairly well this time too... 

"It was in the Daily Prophet and everything! Just this morning.." 

Ahh, now she knew why she hadn't known of anything extraordinary. She hadn't the chance to read her copy yet, being in such a rush to get here. It was among her school books in her Hogwart's trunk. She'd have to read it once she got to the Weasley's. 

Tom obviously felt it was his duty to inform the misinformed witch, and in a grave voice he stated, "The Minister's disappeared." 

Hermione came to a quick stop, causing her wide eyed parents, not at the news, but at their surroundings, to come crashing into her. 

"Corneillius Fudge?" 

"Yes. Dear man.." He trailed off, stopping as well, as they were now in front of a brick fireplace. "Well, off you go then." 

Dazed, Hermione dipped her hand in the vase and threw the green powder into the fire. Her parents shoved her Hogwart's trunk and suitcase into her arms, bestowing a quick kiss on each cheek. 

Hermione stepped into the now green flames, calling out meekly, "The Burrow." Her last sights of The Leaky Cauldron were of her parents ducking as the half giant threw a glass mug at Tom, no doubt demanding a drink. 

~ 

The Burrow was a perfect picture of chaos. 

Ministry figures ran throughout it as if it were their own office. Mrs. Weasley was in heaven, making cup after cup of sugar filled tea and coffee for the many frazzled officials. 

Ron was in despair, chasing after her as she ran to take her latest batch of biscuits from the oven. 

"So _what_ mum? What does _Harry_ have to do with Fudge?" 

Truthfully, Ron wasn't all too upset over their Minister's disappearance. If he was thick headed enough to believe that You-Know-Who had not risen last term, well good riddens to him. 

Mrs. Weasley turned on him, her face red with anger. "Don't you realize this is You-Know-Who's doings?" She lowered her voice, as many of the officials didn't yet believed he'd risen, much like their absent minister. Still, a few cast an irritated glance at her, overhearing the suggestion. 

Ron gulped. He hadn't thought of that possibility. 

But _still_.. 

"Okay. So You-Know-Who's taken Fudge.." He gulped again. "Wouldn't Harry be safer here? You read the letters! His stupid cousin Dudley's practically killing him now!" 

Mrs. Weasley's features softened and she smiled at her son. "Dumbledore's set.. certain precautions for him. He'd be best away from the wizarding world for now." 

Ron slumped his shoulders. "'Spose you want _me_ to tell him, then?" 

"He is your friend, Dear." 

"Molly! Another coffee will you?" A bald headed man, sprawled against their table as if it were his own, surveying countless sheet of papers, asked in what Ron assumed he thought to be a caring voice. 

Mrs. Weasley took to action, pouring coffee as the biscuits floated from the oven, the hot pan hitting an elderly wizard in the head, knocking him out. 

It was hard to say if Ron even noticed Hermione arriving in their fireplace as he trudged upstairs to his room, about to send Pig to Harry with the bad news.   


**A/N-** As a reward for successfully reading two whole chapters of this [insert adjective here] fanfic, you have the chance of winning *drum roll* ONE MILLION DOLLARS!!! To take advantage of this chance, submit a review telling me how much you like/dislike the above bit of writing. 

Warning: Chances of actually winning the ONE MILLION DOLLARS are less than 0.00001 x 0 out of 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. ^_^ Have a nice day. 


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